


Purple Cane

by PatienceScalpel



Series: Purple Reign [2]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: BDSM, Dessert, F/F, Purple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:00:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22302244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatienceScalpel/pseuds/PatienceScalpel
Summary: A sequel to Purple Reign.It is not necessary to read Purple Reign first; neither of these stories have any plot to speak of.One for the step on me stans.
Relationships: Wilhemina Venable/You
Series: Purple Reign [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605664
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	Purple Cane

The apartment is higher up in the security building than you’re comfortable with. There are no obvious exits. This is a place that would not be easy to leave in a hurry. 

The corridor is clean and has quality fittings, but it is dark. 

While you find the right number almost immediately, you wait silently for three and a half minutes so you’re not early. 

When those minutes are finally up, you almost don’t knock. 

But you do, and when you hear the dull thud of her cane and the sharp tap of her heels you know it’s too late. 

The apartment is at once luxurious and spartan; with no other context it might be mistaken for high end hotel suite. There are some purple tones, but they are not as dramatic as you’d imagined. They are subtle but richly textured and serve to bring a dark humidity to the otherwise cold space. 

She wears a matching lavender skirt and jacket over a lavallière silk blouse in the same shade. The monochrome is offset to devastating effect by the black belt with its gold buckle cinched around her waist and her violet gloves and stilettos. Her red hair is once again set in immaculate peaks — the source of the horned shadow cast by the floor lamp. 

She indicates with a gesture that you should place the two boxes you are carrying on the black dining table. 

The smaller box holds lavender, lemon and thyme gelato and the larger one contains an ube pie. It has a deep violent filling that tastes a lot like pumpkin only slightly less sweet, and the biscuit base is perfectly spiced, even and crisp. You lost count of the number of times you made it before you perfected it. 

She nods and sits at the table, motioning that you serve her. 

You slice the pie very neatly and carefully place a section into the bowl on the table. You add two round scoops of gelato next to it, place the bowl in front of her and take a step back. 

“Now undress.” 

The combination of your nervousness and the abruptness of her command leaves you standing there gaping at her. 

“Last time I checked, I had scoliosis, not a stutter. Take your fucking clothes off.” 

You strip down to your underwear and one quick glance at her face has you quickly removing that too. 

She approaches and steps behind you.  
She stands very close, not touching you for what feels like many minutes. She steps back and you hear her leave the room and then return. She stands ever closer to you. Then she reaches out past your face and everything goes dark. She pulls the ends and secures the tie at the back of your head hard. 

She steps away, leaving you with only dark silence and cool air on your skin. 

“Don’t move one single fucking inch” 

You nod and suddenly feel her hand in your hair, pulling your head back viciously until you remember yourself. 

“Yes, Ms Venable.”

She steps back and you hear the scrape of her chair as she returns to the table, leaving you in the middle of the room, cold and exposed. 

You hear the ring of cutlery against ceramic and you know she is eating. She takes her time. At some point you hear a low hum of pleasure. 

After some time you hear her chair move, and her cane and heels on the floor as she approaches you. She stands very close. 

“Would you like a taste?” 

Her syllabant ‘s’ and the slight softness in the way she asks throw you. You nod. 

The slap that follows sends an explosion of light behind your eyes. 

“Sorry Ms Venable.” 

“I asked if you would like a taste?”

“Yes please, Ms Venable.” 

You feel her hand on the back of your head, and then your knees buckle as she pushes your face to the floor. You feel a cool even surface on your jaw and chin. You lick the leather presented to you. The top of her stiletto is perfectly smooth under your tongue and tastes clean and earthy. 

She taps her cane, and you increase your efforts,

She nudges your head sideways with her cane and you begin on her other shoe, the regular tapping forbidding you from stopping. 

Suddenly she pulls you up by your hair until you’re standing again. 

She seizes your jaw and leans in very close. The sudden heat of her mouth almost on yours leaves you breathless. She doesn’t touch you, but you can just about taste the sweetness of the ube and tartness of the lavender. Staying close to you, she reaches down, pushes your arms behind your back and deftly secures then at the wrist. The heady sensation of her proximity is then very abruptly replaced by the sting and shock of her palm on the side of your face. 

She pulls you forward and few steps and then down toward her. You think she’s seated, but you can’t tell. 

Her hand on the back of your neck pushes to you knees and drags you closer to her. 

“Eat.” The way she spits out the word forbids any question or any other kind of response apart from obedience. 

You lean forward and open your mouth. She is completely smooth, which surprises you, although it shouldn’t. She is slick and tastes mineral, musky, sweet and delicate. You very gently swipe with the flat of your tongue.

You use almost no pressure and, as softly as you can, make a careful circle across and around her clit. You continue to lightly stroke her until her hands and nails digging into your scalp tell you more pressure is required. 

You’re firmer now, but don’t commit to a rhythm or pattern as you lap up her arousal and respond to the subtle shift of her hips. 

She makes no sound and gives no instructions, but you can tell from her increasingly erratic breathing that she’s not displeased. 

At one point you try to push your tongue inside her but she yanks your hair so hard you know not to try it again. 

Your shoulders ache from leaning forward against the angle at which your arms are tied but you pay no notice, and focus on letting her use your mouth. 

She pulls you closer to her, holding your head at an angle where you know she means for you focus on her clit, so you do, increasing the speed of your rhythm as you mouth slips around in sync with her movements. 

When you feel tension in her body, you add gentle suction and her hands in your hair clench so hard the pain almost incapacitates you. You wonder if she has drawn blood. 

You meet her thrusts, moving with her until you feel her coil and then release; her thighs clenching around your head as she comes in your mouth, gasping. You don’t stop, but you ease the pressure in the hope she’ll let you continue. 

Still breathing heavily, she grabs your chin, forces you back and slaps you across the face. Hard. So hard your head spins. 

You stay, kneeling, as she gets up. The sharp echoes of her heels and cane tell you she’s moving between rooms. You hear a tap running at some point. Your shoulders burn but you don’t dare move. 

When she finally approaches you, you shiver and stay as upright as you can. 

She makes quick work of the ties on your eyes and wrists. The light and physical relief are overwhelming, but you try not to move even a millimeter. 

She slaps you again. Not as hard as before, but somehow sharper. Your cheek stings. 

“Well?” 

“I’m sorry Ms Venable” 

You don’t know what you’re sorry for, but you hope it’s the answer she expects. 

“You will be.” 

She yanks you up by your hair and drags you to the edge of the table, pushing you down until your head and torso are flat against it. 

She takes a step backwards. The sudden absence of the blindfold and tie leaves you feeling somehow more exposed. 

She stands there, just watching for what feels like hours. You can feel her gaze everywhere. 

The time from when she picks up the cane to when the first strike lands is so short it makes you think she did it in the same movement. 

You don’t have a thought after that because the next blow lands like lightning and the ones that come after are so fast and hard that you’re too stunned to think or move. 

You know it’s a cane because of the way it whistles in the air before it lands and slices your flesh like a razor. 

You cry out and she increases her pace. Each strike cuts so deep you’re sure she’s drawn blood. The pain feels like ice until your freezing flesh becomes pulsing heat when she moves on. This pattern repeats over and over until you can’t feel the difference between the sensation and yourself. 

She stops as quickly as she started and suddenly her cool hands are on your burning, stinging flesh. She strokes you once, sending shivers over every inch of your body. Then she digs in her nails and you arch your back and scream. She immediately moves away, turns and leaves the room. 

She isn’t gone long, and when she returns she stands behind you once more. 

Her heavy walking cane on your thighs pushes your legs further apart. You shiver as the cool air hits you. 

With no warning she penetrates you slowly and firmly with something cold and heavy. It has an artificial smoothness; metal, perhaps, or maybe or glass. She leaves it there and takes a step back. 

She doesn’t need to tell you not to move. 

You hear her walk to the other side of the table. Later you hear her get up and roam around the apartment. At one point you hear her eating. 

The minutes are endless. 

You can barely stop yourself grinding against the table beneath you. 

“Please, Ms Venable.” 

You hear nothing. 

“Please, Ms Venable.” 

This time you hear the thump of her cane, each echo getting softer as she moves in the other direction. 

The air on your brutalised flesh combined with the maddening stimulation of the hard smooth toy is too much. You are so wet that you’re not sure you’ll be able to keep it there and It is killing you not to move. You are shaking. 

“Please, Ms Venable.” 

Still nothing but indiscernible movements. You think you hear a glass being placed on the table. 

When you’ve staved off the point of collapse for longer than you thought possible you finally start sobbing. You beg her. You plead. You promise things. You can barely stand. 

Just when you close your eyes and are about to give in to oblivion, she appears behind you, grabs your hair and pushes you to the floor. Before you can comprehend what’s happening you’re on your back and she’s standing over you. 

She looks down at you and, leaning on her cane, lifts one foot, angles it and very, very slowly, uses the heel of her stiletto to drive what you can now see is a large purple glass cock further inside you. As you gasp she brings down the front of her sole and grinds it against your clit. 

She puts more weight into her foot, stepping down onto your aching cunt and then rocking the smooth surface in a circular motion into your clit. 

She extends her heel, forcing the smooth glass cock further inside you. 

She mashes the sole of her shoe harder into your throbbing clit, and the pressure and motion send showers of pain from the welts on your ass. 

She alternates the pressure between her heel and forefoot but does not change her pace. She is slow and deliberate and uses hard, even force. 

As your motions become more urgent, she angles her foot slightly higher so you can grind against the sole of her shoe as she fucks you with her heel. 

As she shifts her weight back and forward onto your clit and drives her heel in more quickly the expression on her face is hard and merciless. You look into her eyes and submit to her; your whole body drawn taut as rolling waves of pleasure and pain course through you she grinds down harder and harder against your clit and you come shaking beneath the sole of her foot. 

When you stop shuddering she steps back, hooks the base of the toy with her cane and pulls it towards her, sending another shudder through your body.

She approaches you and pushes the top of her shoe between your lips. 

She taps her cane until she’s satisfied that your tongue has sufficiently cleaned it.

“Thank you, Ms Venable.” 

She leaves and returns with a glass of water which she hands it to you. She indicates that you are to get dressed.

As soon as you are fully clothed, she walks to the door and opens it. 

She tells you that you are not to be late tomorrow.


End file.
